Behold a wretched object who is never known to smile,
No joys have I to cheer me and no nothing to beguile;
My tears I scarcely can restrain, I do feel so forlorn,
I've always been unfortunate, since ever I was born.

Chorus: I've always been unfortunate,
Awfully unfortunate,
Dreadfully unfortunate
Since ever I was born.

Why was I ever born at all, I very often say,
When I see nought but wretchedness each hour, in fact each day.
The sun it never shines on me, from year to year I mourn,
I've always been unfortunate, since ever I was born.


Blighted was my childhood, ah! a most unhappy one,
My heart knocked into little bits, my youth and beauty gone;
No loving words fall on my ear, I'm looked upon with scorn,
If I'd known what I had to bear I'd never have been born.

SPOKEN - If ever I was born, I don't remember it. My earliest recollection is being whipped for purloining a penny to purchase a pop-gun, with an additional box on the ears for laughing at my father.
That's the last time I ever laughed. I used to go every Wednesday to a Sunday school but I couldn't learn, so I was thrashed. When I cried, the master said, 'What are ye howling at?' I continued to weep but made no reply. The master said, 'D'ye hear, answer me, what are ye howling at?' I replied, 'I'm howling at you.' He said, 'Don't answer back!' and knocked me down. Then he kicked me and said, 'What are you doing down there? get up!' And when I rose up, he knocked me down again and kicked me for falling. I was unfortunate.
When I was a prattling innocent, the nurse took me out for a walk and dropped me head foremost into a pond and I've had water on the brain ever since. Then I enlisted for a soldier but I couldn't learn my drill. When the sergeant said, 'Stand at ease.' I sat down. When he called out, 'Present arms.' I stood thus... and when he said, 'Fire.' I knocked him down. He said I was too good for a soldier, that I'd make a better policeman, so he turned me out. I was unfortunate.
Then I fell in love, that was the most unfortunate fall I ever had. The object of my affections was a widow. She'd buried three husbands, she secured me for her fourth. I was unfortunate. She's always throwing her former husbands in my teeth. If I offend her, she says, 'Ah, my poor, dear first would not have treated me thus.' or, 'My darling second loved me.' or again, 'Ah, my third was a man.' If she continues her course of conduct, she'll soon bury her fourth. I am unfortunate. We're always quarrelling, she threw a chest of drawers at me last week, it landed on my favourite corn and I've had the tooth-ache ever since. I am unfortunate.

Written, composed and Performed by Arthur Lloyd (1840-1904)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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